


Iron Will, Iron Hearts

by faikitty



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Humor, M/M, Pillow Talk, Sickfic, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faikitty/pseuds/faikitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They may have their problems, but no one can deny they love each other. For Fluri Week 2015. Tags will be added and rating adjusted as necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Vedriti

**Vedriti** » ( _Slovene_ ) to take shelter from the rain and wait for it to finish so you can go on your way

* * *

 

Yuri wasn’t expecting to run into Flynn today.

Honestly, he wasn’t expecting to run into _anyone_ today. The clouds on the horizon look nasty when he wakes up, the wind blowing through his window carrying with it the certainty of a storm, and the proposition of staying inside and relaxing for once seems like the best idea. He lets Repede out to do his business, lies back down in his bed, and listens to the idle chatter of his neighbors outside.

When he hears a loud bark, he sits up, looking out his window just in time to see Repede take off running up the hill out of sight.

_Repede can take care of himself_ , Yuri thinks, lying back down and rolling onto his side. But there’s a nagging worry in the back of his head, an itch that won’t quite go away, and when he hears the rain start falling, he rouses himself with a long sigh and heads out to find the dog.

He jogs up the hill leading from the Lower Quarter, following Repede with only a vague idea of where he went. It’s quieter than usual; every sane person is inside, preparing for the oncoming storm, so Yuri is able to make it into the city without any questions. It doesn’t take long before the rain starts to come down in sheets, soaking him to the bone. He almost regrets coming out to find Repede, but then he hears the dog’s telltale bark, and when he looks up, he sees Repede under a café’s canopy, a man in knight’s armor and blond hair kneeling to pet him.

“Flynn? That you?” Yuri shouts over the downpour, heading closer to them, and sure enough, when the man turns around it’s clear that it’s Flynn. Repede looks over at Yuri and runs back out into the rain to greet him. Yuri doesn’t bother to go under the canopy; he’s already sopping wet, so he might as well just stay out and enjoy the cool rain on his skin.

“Yuri? What are you doing here?” Flynn asks. He starts to approach, but then he seems to realize it is raining and takes a step backwards. “Never mind. Come and dry off.”

Repede takes Flynn’s invitation, but Yuri stays out in the rain, only a few feet away from the safety of the canopy now. “The rain feels nice. Why don’t _you_ come out _here_? Afraid you might rust?” he asks with a grin.

“You’re going to get sick,” Flynn warns with a sigh. Repede shakes the water from his fur, spraying it onto the blond, who glares down at him.

“Now you’re already wet,” Yuri laughs. “Might as well join me.” He grabs Flynn’s arm and drags him out into the downpour before Flynn can stop him. The blond yells something incoherent as the rain soaks through his clothes and drips from his armor, jerking his hand free from Yuri’s grip and retreating to the safety of the canopy. “You’re no fun,” Yuri complains, and Flynn stares at him incredulously.

“ _You_ can get sick. Stay out in the rain all you want. _I_ am not going to,” he informs the dark haired man, and Repede gives a short bark of agreement.

“You’ll be stuck there awhile then,” Yuri warns. “It doesn’t look as if the rain will let up any time soon. If anything it’s only going to get worse.”

“I’ll wait.”

And then it’s a matter of principle. Flynn can’t leave, because going out into the rain would mean relenting to Yuri, and Yuri can’t go beneath the canopy, because that would mean admitting Flynn was right.

For awhile, it isn’t so bad. They talk about nothing in particular, Flynn wondering how the people in the lower quarter are doing, Yuri asking about how Flynn’s knighthood is working out, and Repede occasionally chiming in with a low woof. But eventually, a chill works its way into Yuri’s bones, making him shiver despite his desire to appear unaffected by the rain. As the wind whips up, it blows his long hair into his face incessantly, and he doesn’t even have a hairband to tie it back with.

When Yuri finally _sneezes_ , Flynn makes a face and disappears into the café. He returns a few seconds later with a towel and drags Yuri beneath the canopy forcibly. “Come here,” he mutters, pushing Yuri into a chair, one that would normally be for a customer on a sunny day. “You’ll freeze to death at this rate.” He takes off his gauntlets, rings Yuri’s hair out, and gathers it up in the towel, drying it off even as Yuri assures him he’s _fine_ , this is _completely_ unnecessary. “Just wait here with me for the rain to stop.”

Yuri relents at that. Flynn’s hands are comforting on his head, and he finds his eyes closing at the contact. He’s still cold; his clothes are drenched, after all, and there’s no drying _them_ with a towel. But it’s still strangely pleasant, leaning back while Flynn towels off his hair, listening to the blond scold him for being so stubborn and the rain pitter-pattering off the streets and the gentle rumble of thunder in the distance.

He finds that the rain almost ends too soon after that.


	2. Day 1 Extra: Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following being caught in the rain, Yuri catches a cold. Sequel to Vedriti.

“I _told_ you you would get sick.”

Yuri’s attempt at a laugh throws him into a coughing fit. “Yeah,” he admits once he can talk again, “but now you’re taking care of me. Who’s the real winner here?”

“There _is_ no winner in this, Yuri,” Flynn sighs.

He hadn’t planned on coming to take care of Yuri in the first place. It’s only been a day since Yuri’s little escapade in the rain, and sure enough, the idiot managed to catch a cold despite the old saying. Flynn wouldn’t have even known about it, but Repede showed up near the end of his patrol duty, barking and obviously trying to get Flynn to follow, so the blond assumed something was horribly wrong. Yuri must have been dying, or Repede wouldn’t have insisted on Flynn following him to his owner. And when Flynn opened the door of Yuri’s home, he honestly thought the other man might _be_ dead. Yuri was virtually comatose, covers pulled up almost over his head, his chest barely moving beneath their weight. But then Flynn got close enough to see his flushed skin, and Yuri’s eyes opened, red and watery with sickness, and he understood.

“I think I’m the winner,” Yuri clarifies, and Flynn looks back at him blankly. The dark-haired man gives a little grin and manages to sit up, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss Flynn, but Flynn stops him immediately.

“You can’t kiss me. I don’t have time to get sick.” Flynn almost feels guilty when Yuri sinks back down in bed in defeat.

“That’s not fair. You’re so _mean_ , Flynn. You value your own health more than you love me. I fall second to work. I see how it is.”

Flynn pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “How high is your fever?” he asks, fairly certain he already knows the answer from Yuri’s nonsensical rambling.

“Not high enough to make you love me, apparently,” Yuri shoots back.

Flynn knows punching a sick man would be cruel, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to. “That doesn’t even make sense, Yuri… Stop talking for a minute. I need to take your temperature.” He rummages through the drawers in Yuri’s dresser before finally finding a thermometer.

“Make me.”

Flynn shoves the thermometer into Yuri’s mouth. Yuri glares but keeps it beneath his tongue nonetheless. Flynn uses the moments of silence to get some actual work done, filling up a glass with water for his sick lover and wetting rags to wipe the cold sweat from his face. Yuri isn’t sick often, but when he is, he looks absolutely pitiful, nothing left of the confident and snarky man of norm.

 Flynn pulls the thermometer from his mouth, offering him a glass of water instead, and the number he reads confirms his fears. He opens the window, and Yuri nearly chokes on his water at the gust of cold air that blows through. “It’s _cold_ ,” he whines, trying in vain to burrow further beneath the blankets. “Close the window.”

“I can’t.” Flynn pulls the blankets from Yuri’s body, refusing to give them back even when the dark-haired man reaches for them. “Your fever is too high. I have to bring it down like this. Do you have any ice in here?”

“I don’t. But I wouldn’t tell you even if I did.” Yuri falls back onto the bed like all of his strength has fled him and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m going to freeze.”

“You aren’t going to freeze,” Flynn sighs. Yuri is shivering, yes, but if Flynn doesn’t bring down his fever, they’ll have a far more serious problem on their hands than him being a bit cold. “Relax.” He wipes off Yuri’s face with a rag and brushes a strand of hair from in front of his closed eyes. “I’ll stay with you until your fever goes down.”

One of Yuri’s hands drifts up to touch Flynn’s, and the blond allows that, lets Yuri twine their fingers together. “You _do_ love me,” Yuri says, sounding smug as if he just won a bet. A smile appears on his face despite everything. “I knew it.”

“Just rest,” Flynn says by way of response. “Sleep if you can. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“’kay.”

Yuri is annoying when he’s sick, far more annoying than usual, but the affection and honesty is refreshing. So Flynn doesn’t mind staying here and holding his hand, keeping him warm in this way. He doesn’t mind at all.


	3. Day 2: Saudade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for a little over midway through the game. Angsty as fuck.
> 
> Extra chapter (Promise) is a continuation of this one, with their reunion.

**Saudade**  » ( _Portuguese_ ) the feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost

* * *

 

When Yuri falls, Flynn thinks his heart has stopped.

Time slows to crawl along with his pulse, each second happening as a snapshot. Yuri’s eyes meet Flynn’s at the end, a single blink between their gazes connecting and him falling. That will always be what Flynn remembers most, what he sees in his nightmares of losing Yuri again that he has all too frequently. It’s Yuri’s eyes, dark and dulled with pain as Sodia’s knife cuts deep into his stomach, growing wider and almost frightened as he’s knocked from the platform and the fact that he’s less than a second away from plummeting into the ocean below hits him. His eyes are desperate when they meet Flynn’s, and he reaches out as if grasping for a lifeline.

There’s none to be found, and he tips over the edge and is gone.

The world stops spinning then, the shift in equilibrium knocking the wind from Flynn and draining the strength from his muscles. Nobody moves, nobody speaks, nobody even _breathes_ for a few long, drawn out seconds.

“ _Yuri_!”

 Estelle’s voice is the one to break the heavy silence, all not quite a scream but high pitched with fear and sorrow. Flynn can see the tears on her face as she dashes past him, and for a minute he thinks she’s going to throw herself off the edge in a final attempt at saving Yuri. But then he sees a blur of red and brown, and Rita grabs the other, holding her tightly so she can’t take another step.

“Estelle. Stop it. He’s gone,” Rita says firmly, and she doesn’t let go of Estelle even as the princess sinks to the ground in dismay.

“He’s not. He’s alive. I know he’s alive. I would know if he were dead,” Estelle denies adamantly, but the tears run down her face anyway.

Flynn can’t bear to look at Estelle, to see his own grief manifest in the woman’s sobs. He turns his head from the scene, practically searching for a lifeline of his own to grab. His eyes land on Raven, the older man’s face sad but free of tears. He’s seen death before, Flynn knows. He’s lost friends and comrades. Now, he’s only lost another.

Karol sits at his feet, and when Raven sets a hand on the boy’s shaking shoulder, Flynn doesn’t want to look at them either. “He’s alive. I don’t know how, but he’s alive. He’s gotta be alive.” Flynn can hear the boy repeating the words like a mantra, voice cracking on every other syllable.

He glances at the Krityan, who stands a few feet from him. Judith bites her lip _hard_ —hard enough that Flynn can see blood trickle down her chin—and turns away. She doesn’t cry, doesn’t call out Yuri’s name, and that’s a blessing.

Flynn doesn’t either. There’s no point. Yuri is _gone_ ; crying and screaming is hardly going to bring him back. He _couldn’t_ cry even if he wanted to. That would mean accepting that Yuri is really gone. Flynn _knows_ , realistically, that he _is_ dead. He has to be. Even assuming Sodia’s blade didn’t pierce any vital organs, there’s no surviving a fall like that. So he can’t cry. He won’t let himself break like that.

There’s too much he wants to say, never _got_ to say. Yuri would kick his ass at the cliché, he knows he would, but Flynn realizes suddenly that he never told Yuri he loves him. He couldn’t before. It would be so unfitting for their relationship, their existence as friends and lovers alike, to actually _say_ the words “I love you.” So he never did. And now it’s too late.

Flynn can’t do any more here. He should get his men and leave.

That’s what he means to do when he stalks up to Sodia, just tell her they’re leaving and she should follow him. But when he nears her, something in him snaps. He grabs the woman by the collar, twists it up so that he’s lifting her off the ground and she can’t do anything about it. “What the hell did you do!?” he shouts, half-surprised at how angry the words sound to his own ears.

“I’m sorry,” she says in a terrified voice. “I didn’t mean to.” His teeth grind together in frustration at the genuine remorse on her face. There are tears in her eyes too, and damn it, _he’s_ the one who should be crying. But he can’t.

And he can’t do this either, he realizes. However much he’d like to throw Sodia off the edge, he just can’t. He releases her and she stumbles back, fingers going to her collar where Flynn had held her.

“We’re leaving,” he says stiffly, and he doesn’t wait to see if she’s following him. He just goes, ignoring Estelle, ignoring all of Yuri’s friends, ignoring everyone and everything.

Repede’s mournful howls ring in his ears all the way back.

 


	4. Day 2 Extra: Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri was expecting a slightly warmer welcome. Sequel to Saudade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Compared to the previous chapter: less angst, more fluff, and many more tears.
> 
> Warnings for a little harsh language and spoilers for mid-game and First Strike movie.

“Flynn!”

Yuri sees the blond first, some distance away but still clearly him. He doesn’t bother to hide the excitement in his voice, because he _did_ miss the uptight knight while he was “dead.” Even though it feels to him as if he’s only been gone a few days, he knows it’s been far longer, and Flynn was among those who must have thought him dead. He’s certain Estelle has already told Flynn that Yuri is not, in fact, deceased, but Flynn still stiffens at his voice as if he’s heard a ghost.

Flynn is most likely working, Yuri thinks, but he’s pleased when the other man approaches regardless. There’s an odd look on Flynn’s face, a mixture of incredulity and anger and grief all at once, as Yuri draws him into an alley.

Yuri ignores the expression, grins wide and holds out his arms, inviting Flynn to hug him with the full knowledge that there’s _no_ way the blond ever _would_. “Did you miss me?” he teases, and to his surprise, Flynn steps forward as if he’s going to accept the embrace.

That’s when Flynn’s fist connects with his head.

Yuri lands _hard_ , hard enough that he’s left dazed for a few seconds when the back of his head hits a wall. “Flynn, what the hell!?” he yells, too surprised by the sudden blow to return it. He wasn’t _actually_ expecting Flynn to hug him; he was not, however, expecting him to _punch_ him. When Flynn falls to his knees in front of him, Yuri braces for another punch; this time, he’ll fight back. That’s when he realizes.

Flynn is _crying_.

Yuri doesn’t even think the other man is aware of it. Flynn is still glaring at him like he’s never been so furious in his life, hands curled into fists at his sides and his brows knit together in anger. But there are tears on his face, falling down his cheeks without being brushed away as if Flynn doesn’t know they’re there. Yuri isn’t sure what to do about that. He’s never been the best at comforting, and he thinks Flynn is likely to punch him again if he tries anything. But he can’t just let Flynn kneel there in front of him and cry silently forever.

So he reaches out and pulls Flynn into his arms before the other man can snap at him again.

“Let go of me,” Flynn growls, voice slightly muffled by Yuri’s shoulder. “I’m still mad at you.” His fists are pressed to Yuri’s chest, and he smacks him half-heartedly, unable to muster any real strength behind the action.

“Sure you are.” Yuri can feel the other man shaking. Flynn _is_ still angry, clearly, but if he actually wanted to be let go, he could easily push Yuri away. The fact that he hasn’t is telling enough.

“ _Screw_ you, Yuri.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“ _No_. You absolute _bastard_. You _promised_ you wouldn’t go off and die without me. I looked for you again and again and again and you weren’t _there_. I thought you’d sunk to the bottom of the ocean. I thought I was left without even a body to bury _again_. You’re so _reckless_. I thought you were fucking _dead_.” A small hitch of breath, then quieter: “I thought you were dead, Yuri...”

“Yeah. I know.” Yuri sighs and adjusts his position, resting his hand on the back of Flynn’s head. He knew, but not to this extent. “I’m sorry. I’m alive. And I’m here now.” Yuri feels Flynn stiffen at his words.

Then something in Flynn seems to break.

The next breath Flynn takes leaves as a shuddering sob, grief and relief alike bubbling up in his throat and spilling out from his lips. He presses his face against Yuri’s shoulder, gives a choked “ _Yuri_ ” into the fabric of his shirt. And when Flynn’s arms finally wrap around Yuri and hold him so tightly he can barely breathe, he just holds Flynn back, lets him cry against him until his shirt is soaked with tears.

Yuri has never seen Flynn quite like this before, not even when Niren died, and hopes to never have to see it again. Flynn is _strong_ —even like this. It’s obvious that he has held back for so long, wouldn’t let himself mourn Yuri because he had to _stay_ strong. There’s nothing shameful about his tears now; they only make Yuri want to hold him all the tighter. But it hurts to see them, hurts to hear the small whimpers that Flynn is trying so _hard_ to hold back, hurts to know that _he’s_ the reason for them.

Yuri doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just nestled in each other’s embrace. But eventually Flynn’s shaking stops, his tears dry up, and he leans back, unwilling to meet Yuri’s eyes. His face is splotchy and red, his eyes are swollen, and his lower lip is still trembling slightly. And Yuri has never wanted to kiss him so badly in his life. So he does, and when Flynn’s eyes squeeze shut, Yuri worries he’s going to start crying again. But instead he pulls away from the kiss, opens them again, and fixes Yuri with a glare.

“If you die again, I’ll kill you. I swear,” he promises vehemently.

“Try saying that when you _aren’t_ crying over me,” Yuri replies with a grin, and when Flynn huffs and stands up, Yuri knows he’ll be okay.


	5. Day 3: Gigil

**Gigil**  » ( _Filipino_ ) the urge to pinch or squeeze something that is unbearably cute

* * *

 

Yuri is dreaming.

He knows he has to be. There’s no other explanation for why the Flynn in front of him looks so incredibly different. It _is_ Flynn, that much is certain, but he doesn’t look like the Flynn Yuri knows. He’s shrunk a good five feet, making him look like a caricature of his real self, something like a “chibi” that Yuri has seen before in drawings. Adding to that, Flynn has grown a set of blond furry ears on top of his head that twitch when Yuri approaches him, and he even has a long tail poking out of his clothes that swishes back and forth slowly.

“You _are_ Flynn, right?” Yuri asks as he walks toward the strange little thing. The shockingly blue eyes that he fixes on Yuri confirm that it is indeed Flynn. “What happened to you? And how do I get you back to normal? _Can_ I even get you back to normal?”

Flynn tilts his head curiously but doesn’t speak. Yuri isn’t sure if this version of him even _can_ speak. Yuri kneels in front of him, peering into his bright blue eyes, and reaches out to touch a furry ear. Flynn gives a little squeak and jumps back, face going red at the touch, and Yuri doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“You’re so cute. What the hell?” Yuri reaches out again to pinch Flynn’s cheeks, and this time the sound Flynn makes is lower, more like _his_ Flynn. _Is_ he dreaming? He has to be.

“Yuri.”

He hears his name from a distance; even though it’s Flynn’s voice, it seems to echo through his head rather than coming from the Flynn in front of him.

“Oi. _Yuri_. Wake up.” Flynn’s voice is distorted as it pulls Yuri back into reality. Yuri’s eyes open slowly to see his lover a few inches from him, completely back to normal and staring at him with those same blue eyes as in his dream. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Hm?” It takes a few seconds before Yuri realizes he’s pinching Flynn’s cheeks in reality, and the other man doesn’t seem to like it much more than the dream version of him did. Yuri releases Flynn’s cheeks and studies his face. The blond’s hair is mussed from sleep, dark circles beneath his eyes from overworking, a bit of stubble on his chin. All in all… “…you’re not as cute as you were in my dream.”

Flynn looks at him blankly, and a few seconds later, Yuri hits the floor with a loud thud.


	6. Day 3 Extra: Laughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something meaningful. But I couldn't come up with anything, then a friend suggested I do this, and so I just sort of--

“Are you ticklish?”

Yuri looks sharply at Flynn at the question, and the blond doesn’t miss the flash of fear in his eyes. “Where did that come from?”

“Just a hunch,” Flynn replies. He’s noticed how Yuri reacts oddly to his touch at times, shirking back as if electrocuted when Flynn runs absentminded fingers over his bare skin when they lie in bed together. Now is one such time, so he might as well go ahead and ask.

“Well no, I’m not.” Yuri pulls himself free of Flynn’s arms and sits up to examine Flynn’s expression better, clearly trying to determine where the blond is going with this.

“You are, aren’t you?” Flynn presses. It may be pointless for him to know, but for Yuri to have a weakness like that is oddly cute.

“I told you I’m _not_ ,” Yuri insists, scooting a few inches away as Flynn slides closer. He lifts up a hand to stop him. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I won’t,” Flynn sighs, and he means it. Or, at least, he does until Yuri relents and leans back into his arms, because when Flynn runs a finger down his side experimentally, not actually intending to _do_ anything, Yuri gives an involuntary shiver. Flynn stops at that, his finger lingering just above Yuri’s hips, and he can’t help but wonder: if such a small action can earn that reaction, what would something _more_ do?

Yuri pulls away half an inch and eyes Flynn warily. For a moment, nothing happens as understanding passes between them. Then he’s back in Flynn’s arms but not of his own volition, Flynn holding him tightly enough with one arm that Yuri can’t escape no matter how much he writhes, his other hand brushing lightly over his skin.

“You say you aren’t ticklish. Prove it,” Flynn suggests quietly, and Yuri stiffens in his grip, the amount of effort he’s exerting to appear unaffected painfully obvious. For a few seconds, Flynn thinks maybe he was wrong. Yuri goes slack in his arms, and no matter what Flynn does, he doesn’t react. But a moment later, when Flynn’s fingers drift over his hips and lower abdomen, Yuri makes a sound like a muffled whine, and suddenly, Flynn has to try a _lot_ harder to keep Yuri’s arms pinned against him. The dark-haired man’s head presses back against his shoulder, his back arched, and he’s biting his lip so hard Flynn is half-worried he’ll bite through it, eyes shut tightly like he can make the whole thing stop by not seeing it. “You have to breathe, you know,” Flynn murmurs, letting his fingers skate back up over his side, and Yuri shakes his head. “Yuri, you’ve already lost. Give up.”

“No,” Yuri breathes, and apparently, he shouldn’t have opened his mouth, because he can’t bite back the laughter like that. And once he starts laughing, he can’t _stop_ , fighting Flynn in earnest now but still to no avail. He’s in too awkward of a position, stuck in Flynn’s lap without any way to really brace himself against anything. “Flynn, cut it out.”

“But you aren’t ticklish, right?” Flynn responds evenly, and when Yuri’s head twists toward him, Flynn thinks for a second that he’s going to bite him. But then it twists back the other way, and Yuri’s laughter is interspersed with panting breaths.

“I’m going—to kick—your ass,” Yuri manages between gasps. Flynn ignores him, focusing instead on the movement of his fingers, returning to the spot on Yuri’s lower abdomen that made him react so strongly before. This time Yuri holds his breath for a few seconds before giving up and letting out a round of giggles that sound very unlike anything Flynn has ever heard him do before. “Let go.” Yuri sinks down as if he could slip from Flynn’s arms. “Let me go so Icankillyou.” The last few words leave as one, coming out as a single burst of laughter. “ _Flynn_.”

Something changes not long after that. Yuri’s quaking stops along with the jumping of muscles beneath Flynn’s fingertips. He isn’t rigid anymore; he’s completely loose, his head resting against Flynn’s shoulder with no force anymore. There are no sounds leaving his open lips. And most worrying, his fighting has stopped altogether.

“Yuri?” Flynn halts immediately and releases him. His first thought is that he must have killed the other man, but Yuri is still breathing, even though his face is red and tears from laughing have gathered on his lashes. He’s able to hold himself up, too, which is a good sign. “Yuri, talk to me.”

Yuri’s eyes fly open a second later, a smirk appearing on his face, and Flynn finds himself on his back, Yuri pressing his shoulders into the mattress. “You’re so gullible,” Yuri says. “I’m _fine_.How are you going to lead an army if you fall for something like that?”

Flynn does _not_ like the look on Yuri’s face, not one bit. “When am I ever going to be in this situation on the battlefield?” he scoffs, trying for a distraction, an argument even if that will get Yuri off of him, but Yuri’s smirk only widens.

“You really think you’re getting off that easy?”


	7. Day 4: Queesting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always found it odd in Vesperia how no one really commented on the fact that they were fighting versions of themselves, their friends, their old enemies, etc. in the ex dungeon, especially since in a fair number of the other games, they DO comment on it.

**Queesting** » ( _Dutch_ ) when you invite someone into your bed for some pillow talk

* * *

 

Flynn is asleep by the time Yuri returns.

He’s had a long day; he _wants_ to wait up for Yuri, but he has no clue where the other man even _is_. Last he knew, Yuri was out with Brave Vesperia, doing god knows what. Flynn didn’t have time to worry about Yuri today in the first place. There was some sort of earthquake—or possibly a landslide—felt everywhere by everyone. People were in a panic, some rumor going around about an entire mountain collapsing, and Flynn was stuck dealing with the aftermath. All it takes is one person panicking to set off a chain reaction.

So he doesn’t wait up for Yuri. He doesn’t even know if Yuri will be _back_ tonight, and he needs to be rested for tomorrow.

He wakes at the sound of his door creaking open, the heavy fall of boots on wood and a lighter padding of an animal. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know the sounds are Yuri and Repede, but when his bed sinks under the weight of another person, he asks anyway by way of greeting. “Yuri?”

“No, it’s Duke. What do you think?” His words are sarcastic as ever, but there’s less bite to them than usual.

“You’re back late,” Flynn murmurs, still only half-awake.

“Sorry.” Yuri plants a kiss on his cheek. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Flynn shifts so Yuri can wrap his arms around him like normal, but when the other man finally settles, Flynn finds he remains alone in his half of the bed. He’s still tired, doesn’t think much of the other man’s stillness. Knowing Yuri, he could easily have exhausted himself today and fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. But when Flynn rolls over, Yuri’s eyes are still open; they meet Flynn’s for less than a heartbeat before darting down, his arms folded to his chest almost protectively. That’s worrying, even to Flynn’s sleep-muddled brain. “Hey, are you okay?”

Yuri closes his eyes and rolls onto his back with a sigh. “…I killed you today,” he mumbles, his voice so quiet it’s barely audible.

 _Now_ Flynn is awake. “Are you on drugs?”

Yuri opens his eyes again, glancing off to the side at Flynn. “I’m not high. And before you ask, no, I’m not drunk either.” His eyes lid once again. “You felt the ‘earthquake,’ right?”

“It made my day a living hell.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t an earthquake. It was a mountain falling in on itself. Long story short, we got a book from an old guy in Yormgen, went through a portal at the base of what _used_ to be a mountain, and fought a lot of monsters and a really strong guy with a sword.”

Flynn props himself up on an elbow to examine Yuri’s face, still not entirely convinced that the other man isn’t on _something_. His words still make no sense, but he seems serious enough. It’s difficult to make out his features clearly in the dim light, but Flynn can still see them clearly enough to tell that there’s nothing interfering with his brain. “That sounds like something you’d have fun with,” he says.

Flynn rolls his eyes at the dreamy grin that appears on Yuri’s face. “I _did_ have fun. The monsters were so strong. It was great. That weird guy at the end… Let’s just say, if Estelle weren’t there to heal me, I’d probably be dead right now.”

Flynn doesn’t really want to hear about Yuri’s near-death experience. He’s already come so close to losing him once before, after all. Yuri’s grin only grows when he opens his eyes to see Flynn glaring at him, and he reaches up to cup Flynn’s cheek in his hand. But then his gaze turns distant, falling just past Flynn’s face, and his hand slips slowly from the blond’s skin to rest on his chest once more as the smile fades from his face.

“Eventually, the monsters became people,” Yuri continues. “And they were people we _knew_ , people who we’d fought before. It was like they pulled them straight out of our heads. We even had to fight _Estelle_ at one point. Watching the Estelle kill herself was just plain weird. And it wasn’t just her. We had to fight _you_ at one point. Even then it would’ve been fun, because that version of you was stronger than you normally are.” Flynn opens his mouth to defend himself, but then Yuri adds softly, “Then I had to _kill_ you. It wasn’t so fun then.”

Flynn doesn’t know how to respond to that. Having your best friend and lover tell you they killed you in an alternate dimension isn’t something that happens every day. So he goes with the most straightforward response. “But it wasn’t _really_ me.”

“ _Obviously_.” Yuri opens his eyes and reaches up again to flick Flynn in the forehead. “I _know_ it wasn’t you. I’m not stupid.” Flynn would beg to differ, but Yuri goes on before he can. “I know it wasn’t you,” he repeats. “But it _looked_ like you, Flynn. It _sounded_ like you.” Flynn can see the regret on Yuri’s face clear as day, like he’s reliving the moment as he tells it. When Yuri covers his eyes with his arm, Flynn wants to pull it away but doesn’t, lets Yuri have that one line of defense. “I get that it wasn’t actually you. But it still felt like I killed _you_. I know things I wish I didn’t now. I know exactly what you look like with a sword plunged through your gut, bleeding out in front of my eyes. I know what your dying breath sounds like. I know what expression you make when you die. And I can’t get the damn sight out of my head.”

“Yuri…” Flynn doesn’t have anything he can say to that, nothing to make it better or erase his death from the other man’s head. It’s all too likely that he _will_ die like that one day. The military is far from the safest job, after all. They both know that. And he suspects that knowledge only makes it worse.

Yuri turns onto his side, his arm falling from his face to fold beneath his head instead. Flynn does the same, but his arms twine around Yuri, pulling him in close until they lie together skin to skin.

“Sorry,” Yuri laughs dryly. “You’ve gotta think I’m pathetic. Hell, I _am_ pathetic.”

“No.” Flynn tightens his grip on Yuri, and suddenly he finds the touch is more for his own sake than the other man’s. “No, you’re not. I still have nightmares of losing you again at least once a week. I watched you get stabbed by my _subordinate_. I know how it feels to watch somebody you love die.”

Yuri sighs and presses his forehead to Flynn’s. “Sorry about that, by the way. Guess this sort of gave me some insight on what that must’ve been like,” he admits. “…go to sleep already. I didn’t mean to wake you up in the first place.”

It’s an abrupt dismissal, a clear end to their conversation, so Flynn nods and rolls over. If Yuri is done, he is too. It isn’t like his lover is very keen on sharing emotions in the first place, so Flynn won’t push. He feels Yuri give a light chuckle against his back, and an arm falls over his waist, less for the purpose of bringing Flynn closer and more for simple contact.Soft lips press to the back of Flynn’s neck, hot breath ruffling his hair, and he hears, so quietly he doesn’t think he was meant to, “I’m glad you’re alive.”


	8. Day 4 Extra: Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day Yuri learns about trust falls is awful for everyone involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could've done something serious with this prompt. But then I realized Yuri would be that one asshole who, once they learn what a trust fall is, would go around doing that to everyone.

Estelle is Yuri’s first victim of this newfound game. She runs to meet him near the palace steps, and when he turns and suddenly leans back on her, she at least _tries_ to catch him.

“Trust fall,” Yuri announces, and he must be too heavy for Estelle, because she only manages to hold him up for a split second before both of them fall to the ground, a pile of fabric and tangled limbs. It _hurts_ when Yuri hits the ground, but he rolls off the princess hurriedly. “Sorry, Estelle. You okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” the girl says, but she looks confused and worried as she sits up. “Are you? You fell so suddenly I thought you fainted. Did you hurt your ankle? What happened?”

“Estelle, no, I’m fine.” Yuri can’t help but laugh at her concern. He has to grab her wrists in order to stop her prying hands from feeling for his nonexistent injury. “Relax. It’s a trust fall.”

“A trust fall…?”

“Yeah. You lean back suddenly and trust the other person to catch you. Thus the name.”

Estelle tilts her head in consideration. “It sounds dangerous. You shouldn’t do that anymore, Yuri. What if you get hurt?”

“Yes, your highness,” Yuri replies, and Estelle, entirely missing the sarcasm in his voice, seems satisfied.

* * *

 

“Trust fall.”

Rita doesn’t even make a pretense of catching Yuri. She stands with her arms folded over her chest, side stepping him as he tumbles to the ground. He doesn’t land hard, at least; he wasn’t honestly expecting Rita to catch him.

“Okay, can’t trust you. Good to know,” he says sadly, sitting up and rubbing his head in pretend pain.

“What? No, you can trust me,” Rita replies hastily, and then she looks away, face going red at her quick reassurance. “I mean— Trust falls are just stupid. If you want to hurt yourself, don’t let me stop you.”

“Well, you see, it doesn’t hurt if the other person actually _catches_ you.”

Rita’s face goes all the redder, and she brushes past him without comment, leaving Yuri laughing at her disappearing form.

* * *

 

“Trust fall.”

“Wha—” Karol scrambles to catch Yuri, but he’s _short_. In his haste to keep the man from falling, Karol ends up pushing against the middle of Yuri’s back, which doesn’t work whatsoever to actually help him _up_. Yuri just slowly sinks ever lower, back arching until he’s practically folded over the top of the boy.

“This isn’t working. I think gravity is increasing on me,” Yuri considers as Karol pushes against him in vain.

“Yuriiiiiiiiiiiii,” the boy wails, and a few seconds later he collapses beneath the adult.

* * *

 

“Trust fall.”

To Yuri’s surprise, Raven’s arms wrap around him and hold him up, and when he tilts his head back to look at the older man, Raven seems as surprised as he does. “Huh. Wasn’t expecting you to catch me,” Yuri admits, and Raven frowns, a flash of disappointment in his eyes. Yuri hadn’t meant to imply that he didn’t trust Raven, especially when the older man has been working so hard to earn that trust. He almost feels bad for his words.

“Oh, Yuri. I must’ve mistaken ya for a woman, what with yer long hair.”

 _Almost_.

* * *

 

“Trust fall.”

Judith catches Yuri solidly without a moment’s hesitation, propping him back up before he has a chance to fall more than a half foot. She tilts her head in confusion, hands leaving his shoulders to prop on her hips instead.

“Hey, you caught me!” Yuri cheers with a broad smile.

Judith returns the expression with a lifted brow. “Is there something I’m missing?”

“Nah. I’m just relieved _someone_ has my back, that’s all.”

* * *

 

“Trust fall.”

“I’m not going to catch you,” Flynn says shortly.

Yuri only smiles and tilts back on his heels. “Too late. Falling.” They’re outside, off to the side in the square, and the ground Yuri is about to crash onto is hard. If he lands on the stones without any sort of break, it’s going to be extremely painful, and he knows that.

He also knows Flynn will catch him.

More than anyone else, Flynn is the one he trusts the most. After all they’ve been through, Yuri would trust the blond with his life— _has_ trusted him with his life and _more_ on numerous occasions. So Yuri just closes his eyes and falls back, stiff as a board, arms over his chest. He doesn’t panic when he falls farther than he thought he would, stays still even when his head is less than a six inches from the ground.

And Flynn catches him.

Yuri opens his eyes when his fall is stopped, looking up into Flynn’s irritated face with a smirk. “I knew you’d catch me,” he says fondly.

Flynn smiles a moment, nods, and drops him the rest of the way.


	9. Day 5: Viraag

**Viraag**  » ( _Hindi_ ) the emotional pain of being separated from a loved one

* * *

 

Waking up alone is the hardest part, Yuri thinks.

True, he isn’t _really_ alone on this journey. When he opens his eyes, he sees Estelle lying nearby, her face as peaceful in sleep as when she’s awake. And when he rolls over, Raven is next to him, mumbling something Yuri can’t make out—and doesn’t really think he wants to. All of his friends are close by when he wakes.

All except Flynn.

That’s what makes it painful. He’s grown used to waking up from a nightmare to see Flynn lying in a nearby bed—or, more recently, right next to him in his own. The blond would never complain when Yuri accidentally woke him up; he’s done the same many times. It’s so difficult for Yuri to fall asleep without another warm body pressed against his own, and it’s even more difficult to wake up without a kiss on his forehead and sleepy eyes inches from his own.

He’s so used to it that one night, when he wakes from a dream in which he nearly died alongside Niren, he forgets where he is for a few seconds. He feels Flynn near him (because there’s someone next to him, and who could it be but Flynn?) and rolls over to wash away whatever hurt and regret the nightmare has left in him in human contact. He presses his face into the crook of Flynn’s neck and breathes in the familiar warmth. Distantly he realizes Flynn smells odd, more flowers and rainwater than heat and iron, and his skin is soft, far softer than Yuri can remember the knight’s ever being. But he’s still warm and he’s still alive, and Yuri’s hand comes to rest against his chest as if to confirm that his heart is still beating.

Then he feels the swell of breasts beneath his palm, and his eyes fly open to see Judith a few inches from his face, staring at him with a faint smile and a raised brow.

Yuri practically scuttles backwards until the back of his head collides with a large, unforgiving rock. He curls in on himself in pain for a moment, but honestly, it’s preferable to facing Judith after accidentally groping her. He hears shuffling near him, and he doesn’t want to open his eyes again.

“Yuri,” the Krityan purrs, and her voice is coming from _far_ too close to him. “If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask.”

Yuri’s head hurts; that combined with the awkwardness of the situation turns his silver tongue bronze. “That’s… not really it,” he manages. “I mistook you for someone else.” He hears Judith laugh lightly, and when he finally uncurls and opens his eyes, her smirk is less flirtatious and more knowing.

“I thought as much. So? Who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Who has won the great Yuri Lowell’s heart?”

Yuri can only blink for a moment. _Won my heart_? He folds his arm beneath his head and looks at Judith in feigned confusion. He’s struck by how similar this must look to teenage girls discussing crushes at sleepover, but he shoves the thought from his head.

Judith takes his silence as reluctance. “Estelle, perhaps? Or maybe some woman I’ve never met?” She draws in a little closer and lowers her voice. “Or is that cute blond knight, Flynn Scifo?”

Yuri would deny it. He _wants_ to deny it, doesn’t want to say Flynn has “won his heart” or anything even remotely as cliché as that. But Judith’s expression says more than her words, so there’s no use. “Why ask when you already know the answer?” he remarks, and she laughs again.

“I wanted to hear you say it,” she admits. “You love him, then?”

“Whoa, love? We’re not talking about that. I miss him,” Yuri amends, although from the way Judith is looking at him, it’s obvious she doesn’t believe him. He meets her eyes for a few more seconds then sighs and rolls onto his back. They were stuck camping out that night, and they’re far enough away from any town that every little star is visible in the dark sky. Yuri connects them in his head, forming the constellations he knows, but all that does is bring to mind when he and Flynn did the same (Yuri had insisted that there was, in fact, a constellation called “The Pompous Knight” and that it looked just like Flynn). “Yeah. I miss him,” he murmurs. It’s easier to say now without Judith searching his face for the truth. He feels the Krityan settle back in beside him and slip an arm through his, but it’s not seductive now, only friendly and comforting. “He feels like home.”

“You love him,” she repeats quietly, “even if you won’t say so. It wouldn’t hurt so much to be away from him if you didn’t.”

“I never said it _hurt_ ,” Yuri scoffs. “It’s not like we’re always together even when I’m in Zaphias. Guess it’s not very _pleasant_ either though.”

That’s as much as he’ll admit. He wants to close his eyes, go back to sleep even, but Flynn’s face seems stuck to the back of his eyelids and that only makes it worse. Judith’s hand on his arm is transformed for a few seconds into Flynn’s, and god, it’s been so long since Yuri has been able to _touch_ the other man. He still feels the ghost of bruises on his skin from their last fight, partnered with bruises from an entirely different activity, one that left his muscles sore and his lips swollen. But more than anything, he just misses _being_ with Flynn, misses teasing him for being a workaholic and having to duck to avoid the blow to his head that the comment always brings, misses falling asleep to Flynn’s steady breath against his bare skin, misses waking up and rolling over with the certainty that the blond would be by his side.

 _I just miss him_.

Yuri knows he’s lying, even to himself.


	10. Day 6: Cafuné

**Cafuné**  » ( _Brazilian_ ) the act of tenderly running one's fingers through someone's hair

* * *

 

Yuri’s hair gives Flynn something to grab, and sometimes that’s bad.

He uses it as leverage in fights, pulling back on it until Yuri’s scalp throbs. Yuri’s automatic reaction is always to jerk away from the pain, but that only makes it hurt  _worse_. They end up in catfights when that happens; Yuri is too close to Flynn to punch him with any force, so he claws him instead. When his nails rake over Flynn’s skin sharp enough to draw blood, Flynn pulls at Yuri’s hair even harder, fighting back similarly with his free hand. They squabble like children that way.

Sometimes, though, it’s good.

Yuri’s hair is useful during sex; whenever Flynn is in a dominant mood, he’ll twine the long strands through his fingers. He jerks back on it just as hard as when they fight, but Yuri doesn’t really  _mind_  the pain then. It feels  _good_ , even. Flynn’s grip is used to guide sometimes, to lead Yuri where he wants him, and other times it’s used for Yuri’s benefit, because Flynn  _knows_  it feels good to him. It’s rare for their power balance to shift in favor of either of them for long, but Yuri finds he doesn’t care if Flynn is on the winning end in times like that.

And at the end of the day, when they rest in each other’s arms after a fight or sex, Flynn runs his fingers through it, lulling Yuri off to sleep with the light stroking of his hands and his low voice murmuring that he loves Yuri’s hair. Maybe it would be better to hear “I love  _you_ ” than that, but Yuri knows those words are buried in the compliment, a mask of aesthetic appreciation over true affection. He knows what Flynn  _really_  means, and it always makes him smile to hear as he drifts off.

That’s enough for him.


End file.
